


For the Good of the Many

by KylaraIngress



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Angst, Doomed Timelines, F/M, M/M, POV First Person, Unhappy Ending, leap home AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 04:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2255250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KylaraIngress/pseuds/KylaraIngress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet another variation as to what would've happened after Sam fixed Al's marriage to Beth in "Mirror Image", which brings in a very interesting interpretation of the infamous line, "Sam Beckett never leaped home."</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Good of the Many

**Author's Note:**

> Previously published in _For the Love of Al_ , issue 2 zine, originally slated for _Variations on a Theme_ , and written in June of 2002. The idea was to write a story somehow involving a song from the Beatles album _Let it Be_. I chose ["Two of Us"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zwl1unFvM9A).
> 
>  **Warning:** this is NOT your typical romantic schmoop, people, and is angsty angst wibbly-wobbly timey wimey timeline head games.

**PROLOGUE:**

"I want to go home, but I can't." Dr. Sam Beckett sighs, and turns to the man he's come to know as Al the Bartender. Tears streaking his face, he reaches into the depths of his Swiss cheese memory and decides to sacrifice his one chance of getting home . . . for love. Love for the one man who had sacrificed time and again for him. Love for the one person he felt could never love him back . . . at least not in the way he was loved.

Sam gulps down a harsh taste of the coal mining town air, and makes his choice. "I've got a wrong to put right for Al."

"God bless, Sam Beckett," says the mysterious man Sam secretly believes is God.

And Sam leaps . . . .

**April 2, 1969  
SAM:**

I turned away from Beth, not wanting her to see what this sacrifice was truly costing me. Part of me wondered how this change to the timeline would ripple – I mean, this was hardly a butterfly flapping its wings, this was changing Al's life . . . and most certainly mine. While my immediate past was still a big hole in my Swiss cheese memory, Al had given me enough hints over the past five years to let me know my life was intrinsically woven with his.

And as I turned away from her, I caught a glimpse of the photograph of Al. Such a handsome man, I realized, and I briefly wondered how much of the still-handsome but haunted man I knew as my friend would remain with this change. But I remembered my talk with the Bartender: "There's nothing in the world he wouldn't do for me." I had that proven when I saved Tom. And as I silently said goodbye to the man I called friend, a blue aura enveloped him . . . enveloped _me_ , and we leaped.

*****

_Two of us riding nowhere_  
 _spending someone's hard-earned pay_  
 _Two of us Sunday driving,_  
 _not arriving on our way back home._

**  
AL: **

Timeline changes have been an old standby for me now. I've learned Sam's motto for dealing with leaps could just as well work for me and my life: que sera sera, whatever will be will be.

So, when I exited the imaging chamber during the leap into Cokeburg, telling him I'd do whatever it took, I wasn't too surprised when I felt the world shift around me in an eerie reflection to the leaping effect. Vague memories of the one time I did leap let me realize that somehow, I had leaped as well, and before the memories would leave me, I wanted to figure out the basics.

I was in a car. Driving. I did a slight swerve as I finally took control, and looked down at myself. Tux. Nice. Car looked to be a manual, and I gave a slight gasp as the control panel looked _very_ familiar.

"Something wrong, Al?" came a voice at my side, and I swear it was only the fact that I've got nerves of steel that kept me from ending up in a ditch at both the phrase and at the person saying them.

"Beth?" I asked, not quite believing what I was hearing. I looked over at the passenger seat and found myself confirming my confusion. It indeed was Beth, and while she was older than the last time I had seen her, she still was beautiful. I pulled over to the side of the road, not wanting to hyperventilate but not able to stop.

A quick glance in the rearview mirror let me be sure that somehow Dirk Simon didn't end up owning my prototype car (or start calling himself 'Al'), and I started the deep breathing exercises that Sam had taught me so long ago.

Unlike the last time I had leaped, I was retaining all my memories. I knew who I was, who Sam was, and what had been going on before I found myself in this car. In a way, my complete retention of memories scared me more than had I been Swiss-cheesed, for it was against the norm. And always, that was a hinky thing.

Before I had a chance to even come up with a feasible explanation (to myself, let alone Beth), the car phone gave a chirp.

"Al here," I answered.

"Captain?"

I felt my heart constrict further as I heard Gooshie calling me by a different title. "Yeah, Goosh?" I asked.

"It's Sam!"

"Sam? What about him?" I asked, dread filling me at the sense of déjà vu this whole conversation was giving me.

"He . . . he's trying to leap!"

"What?" Trying? Just when the hell was I, anyway?

"He's locked himself in the accelerator, and has primed the system for a leap."

"Tell Ziggy to not let him leap!" I screamed, aware of the many years Sam was stuck. Maybe that was what I was here for, to fix the retrieval program before Sam leaped.

"She's trying, but he's overriding her."

"I'll be right there," I said, and without even thinking, I turned the car around, instinctually heading toward the project. Beside me, I heard Beth give a sigh of regret – at what, I wasn't quite sure I wanted to know.

*********

_Two of us sending postcards_  
 _writing letters on my wall_  
 _You and me burning matches_  
 _lifting latches on our way back home._

****  
** SAM: **

I opened my eyes, hazy from the leap. I quickly assessed my surroundings, knowing from past experience how little time I usually got to figure out the basics of who, what, where, when, and why before the ca ca hit the proverbial fan. I was lying down on the floor, a concrete floor to boot. The walls were a weird blue that reminded me of the aura that had surrounded Al. _Al_ , I cried, my sacrifice still fresh in my mind, _whatever happened as a result, I hope you're happy._

There was smoke in the room – another reason I was hazy, I guess – but it was slowly dissipating, and something told me I _knew_ this room.

As I slowly stood up, my eyes caught a glimpse of the white skin-type fabric that covered my body, and my mind exploded with the sudden knowledge of where I was.

I was in the accelerator.

More importantly, I was home.

I glanced around again, this time with the eye of knowledge. While a brief part of my mind wondered why I was home – after all, I had given it up for Al – the other part was looking, calculating, and doing the things my mind usually did at the beginning of a leap. Old habits die hard, I guess.

The hammering at the door interrupted my thoughts and I wondered why the security lock was still in place. How did they get my body to the waiting room if the door had been locked?

I ran over to the door, keying in the sequence without even thinking about it. The door opened with a familiar 'woosh', and I braced myself for the welcome home from whoever would be coming through the door.

And nearly fainted as I saw Al, a worried scowl on his face, wearing a rumpled tuxedo, looking like he was ready to break the door down.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he yelled as soon as he saw me.

This was _not_ the welcome home I had in mind.

"Al, honey," came a questioned cry from off to the side. And while I couldn't see the source of it, I recognized it. I should, after all. I had just gotten done talking to her.

"Beth?" I strangled out. So I _had_ changed history, but Al still somehow got onto PQL. I felt a sigh of relief exit my frame at the knowledge that he would still be a part of my life.

"Yeah?" Al asked me. "Beth and I were coming back from that big fundraiser shindig when Gooshie gave us the call."

I then noticed the short red-haired computer programmer in question cringing behind Al. He gave me a sorrowful look, and dropped his head in shame. "I'm sorry, Dr. Beckett. I . . . I was worried."

I was starting to feel confused. Why would he apologize for calling Al on my return home? And why was he so worried?

"Oh, honey, I'm sure Dr. B isn't too upset at you," came the Minnie Mouse voice of Tina, and after stretching my neck, I could see her standing next to him, and I gave a slight gasp as she leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Momentarily nonplussed, I remembered the leap into Al, how Tina had ended up married to Gooshie with Al's absence. With Al happily married to Beth, that side trip into unreality must've occurred again.

"Yeah, Goosh," I finally said, and stepped past Al to exit the accelerator. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Listen, pal," came the caustic voice of my holographic friend, who proved he was no hologram by grabbing my shoulder in order to stop me. I flinched at the contact. After so long of not touching, I didn't know what was worse: that it wasn't a hug, or that it was a touch in anger. "What do you think you were doing, testing the accelerator like that?"

I stayed looking forward, not wanting to show the shock at the feel of his hand on my shoulder, when his words hit me with an excruciating force. Testing the accelerator?

"What's the date?" I asked, wanting to know and not wanting to know.

"Excuse me?" Al asked. But something in his tone indicated he was trying to puzzle something out himself.

"The date. Today's date," I said, turning finally to face him. "What is it?"

"Why, silly, it's May 15th," came a feminine voice behind Al, drawing my eyes away from him. "Ten years ago was the day you proposed to me."

And I felt the world I knew slip even further as the dainty form of Donna Alessi stepped out from behind Al, giving me an equally chastising look.

As I gazed upon her brown curly locks, I did a quick calculation. It had been a long engagement, the planning of the wedding getting sandwiched between the closing down of StarBright and the startup of Quantum Leap, and it had taken a little over a year to finally fulfill the promise of a formal ceremony. And the wedding had been scheduled in June of 1986. That made it . . . .

"Oh, boy," I whispered. I hadn't leapt home after all. It was 1995, and apparently instead of leaping about in time, like I _should_ be doing, I was at the project with my wife, being berated by Al with his wife, and all of it watched by Gooshie and his wife.

I saw Al's eyes do an almost unobserved double take at my choice of words, and without warning, he pulled me into a hug.

Even though it wasn't exactly how I had pictured it, I was as close to home as I had been in a long time. And this time, Al was here and solid. And so, even though I wasn't quite sure of Al's sudden slide into mushiness, I responded to the hug eagerly.

I felt his lips tickle my ear in the clasp, and I heard him barely whisper, "For what it's worth, kid, welcome home."

*********

_You and I have memories  
Longer than the road that stretches out ahead._

****  
** AL: **

If leaping in to find me married to Beth wasn't enough of a blow, hearing that oft-said phrase by Sam – "oh, boy" – shocked me to the core.

I gave him a careful look, noticing that his image had changed somewhat from before I had touched him. There were more wrinkles on his face, and his eyes showed the pain and loneliness echoed by five long years of leaping. This wasn't the younger Sam I had assumed – this was _my_ Sam. I grabbed him up in a tight hug, welcoming him home, all the anger I had felt at the 'younger' Sam testing the accelerator without thought of consequences disappearing.

You may ask why I wasn't so surprised at all the differences around me – Gooshie and Tina and Donna. I was used to it by now – Donna was a regular flying Dutchman, popping in and out of the project at a regular interval. Gooshie and Tina's relationship, too, had gone through various stages – in fact, that one time I thought she was cheating on me, it turned out that in fact she had been cheating on Gooshie with me! So, it was business as usual to find Donna there, and Gooshie and Tina hitched.

As I clung to Sam, I heard him give a whimper of relief, and I instantly regretted my harsh words. On the way back to the project, I had carefully queried Beth as to what was going on in our lives. I suspected she was starting to feel as though I was M.I.A. yet again, this time with regards to Sam and the project, although she had supplemented it by becoming the onsite doctor for the project. I wondered how much that feeling would grow had Sam succeeded in his leap – I had spent more time in the Imaging Chamber this past year than out of it.

I pulled away before anyone could ask why I was acting so odd, and tried catching his eyes to let him know who I really was. Patting down my tux, I gave him a grin, saying, "Jeez, Sam, you'd think you hadn't touched me in five years or somethin'."

My phrase did exactly what I expected: he gave me a double take, seeming to look carefully at my face. Understanding crossed his face, and before I knew it, he had taken me up in another breath-taking hug.

"Sam?" Donna asked concernedly, for obvious reasons.

"Al?" Beth added in her two bits.

The voices of our wives must've made Sam remember where (and when) he was, and he slowly broke away. "I . . . I'm sorry for testing the accelerator like that, Al," he said, and by the look in his eyes, it was a true apology for his first leap.

"Hey, no problem," I said. "You did what you had to do, right?"

"Can we . . . can we go somewhere and talk?" he asked, looking pensively at the rest of his audience.

I sighed, knowing what his inherent questions were, and not quite sure of the answers myself. But I also knew we did indeed need to talk. "Sure. Beth, go on home. I may be awhile."

"Sure, hon," she said, leaning over and giving me a peck. "I'll let the girls know you'll be late."

GIRLS? "Uh, yeah, thanks." I nudged Sam, indicating he should be the one to send his wife away.

Taking the hint, Sam walked up to Donna, and – surprisingly – gave her a fairly curt send off. "You, too, Donna – go on home."

"Sam!" I chastised him gently, wondering what was going on. He looked at me with a smile that turned my insides out, and it made me wonder if he remembered – remembered that before he gave me Beth, before he got Donna for himself, there was us. Always us. And no matter what history had awaited me outside of the imaging chamber, I always remembered. Sam, however, never did, although there were times when I felt his subconscious may have a clue, like now.

After a look of confusion, Sam gave a small smile. He quickly gave a small kiss to Donna's cheek, then pushed me toward our office.

As soon as we were through the doors, closed off from prying eyes, I felt myself crushed in yet another hug, filled with desperation and loneliness.

"Oh, God, Al," Sam choked out as he clung to me. "It feels so good to hold you. After so long."

He wasn't the only one glad for the closeness, although as I breathed in his scent once more, I started to worry about my body's response. I held on, hoping my growing erection would either not be noticed or brushed aside. But fate would have it otherwise as I felt Sam suddenly stiffen (and not in a good way) and strangle out, "Al?"

I broke from him, turning away and straightening my clothes in an attempt to cool down the one-eyed monster. And so he wouldn't question, I turned the topic to our other problem.

"Sam, what the hell is going on?" I asked. "One minute I'm talking to you outside that bar, the next I'm in a car with Beth as my wife."

"Maybe it's a leap," he guessed, looking away. "I mean, when I . . . I saw your aura leap right before I did."

"Well, if it's a leap, it sure is a freaky one," I said. "I didn't Swiss-cheese," I let him know, trying to catch his eyes. "Not like last time, anyway."

"You remember everything?" he asked.

"Well, as much as I usually remember – given the changes you've made." I took a short breath, then continued with my questions, "It's in the past, but if I leaped, shouldn't someone be contacting us by now? Gooshie or someone?"

"I don't know, Al," he said, still keeping his face away from me. "I . . . after my last leap, I was afraid I'd never see you again." With that, he finally turned his angst-savaged eyes toward me. "But it was a sacrifice I was willing to make."

I caught his eyes. The things we do for love, huh? "Beth?" I guessed, I knew.

"I wanted to make you happy," he sighed. "I could make one leap for myself; I could come home, to Donna, or I could fix that wrong you had asked of me so long ago."

I was shocked that he had known Donna was here. "You chose me over Donna?" I couldn't help but ask.

"It wouldn't be the first time," he whispered.

"Wait a minute," I said. "If you chose to have Beth stay over coming back home, then . . . ."

"Why am I here?" he finished, taking a step toward me. "He told me I was in control of my leaping, and I wanted to see you one last time – to make sure you were happy."

His intentions couldn't have been more obvious, but I was still confused. "But you leaped here and now," I continued. "Why not where I was? And how come I don't remember this current history?"

"I've got two theories," he said. "The first one, which isn't too happy, is that something happens between now and then that makes it impossible for me to see you when you were."

"That's comforting," I said sarcastically. "At least that would fit with the theory that this is still a leap. And your second?"

"That's where things go a little odd," he said. "Why don't I get into something a little less . . . uh, snug," he said, indicating the Fermi suit, "and we'll sit down and have a talk."

*********

_Two of us wearing raincoats_  
 _standing so low in the sun_  
 _you and me chasing paper_  
 _getting nowhere on our way back home._

****  
** SAM: **

I sighed, looking over his facade, as I walked back into the office. On one hand, I could see the face of the same man that had been keeping me company all these years long; and on the other, I could see the face of the man he had been before this all started. I dreaded trying to explain my other theory – the one that made me realize time travel was definitely something only a genius should do. If I was right, it wasn't much better of an option for us, for me. But it was my own fault for leaping in the first place.

It was hard to not reach out and just kiss the life out of him, especially if I felt what I did when I hugged him earlier. My memory still wasn't any clearer than it ever has been, but feeling his slight erection against me filled me with a joy and serenity I hadn't felt since I started this crazy business – and it made me wonder if in some alternate universe, one without wives and girlfriends in the forefront, we had expanded our friendship to the utmost point.

Ever since I realized when I was, I had been trying to figure out what was going on here. Seeing Al just as clueless both scared and amused me, and when he mentioned the lack of a hologram (for either of us), I started suspecting my current theory. After all, how can I leap home if I never leaped in the first place?

"Timeline shifts," I finally said, realizing he was awaiting my answer.

"Excuse me?"

"With you still happily married to Beth, somehow it managed to ricochet to where I never had leaped."

"Wait a minute," he said. "What about all the people you've helped on your leaps? Are you sayin' because Beth waited for me, those other people won't be helped?" After a second, he added, "And another thing: if you never leap, how can you have been able to fix it so Beth waited?"

"Timeline shifts," I repeated. "I bet if we check with Ziggy, we'll find out that everything I changed has been changed. After all, Beth is here, right? So's Donna. And I bet Tom's alive as well. That would beg the assumption that all the other leaps happened as well. However, in this universe, since they have been helped, that means there was no reason for me to leap, therefore I never did leap."

"That is thoroughly fucked up," he summed up. "So why is it I still remember everything about the leaps? If your theory is right, and everything is that way, how come my memory didn't swipe and redo?"

"Part of the timeline shift," I said. "Since you're still hooked up with the chip, and since the shift would imply no leap, you had to leap yourself in order for the timeline to get back on track."

He sat back and thought about it. I could see him trying to decide what to believe, which theory was the lesser of two evils. He sighed, and turned to me. "So how can you prove this theory over the one that says we're both just in a leap?"

"Paperwork," I said, and headed us toward the control room and Ziggy, where the answers would hopefully show themselves. If I was wrong, by that time, a hologram should contact us – proving that theory. I sighed again, not sure which theory I liked more . . . or dreaded.

*********

_You and I have memories  
Longer than the road that stretches out ahead._

****  
** AL: **

So, we sat down with Ziggy to go through our memories of the leaps – checking to see if the people Sam had helped were still in need of a leaper in their lives.

This theory almost sucked as bad as the other one. It would mean that no one but me knew how long Sam really was in that accelerator, that all his hopes and wishes for the fulfillment of PQL would be set aside – all for the good of those he had helped. And it would be too dangerous to send him in the accelerator again; it could feasibly wipe everything out – back to where it was.

As we searched, I wondered about this new life he had given me. I was married to the only woman I truly loved, and obviously with children – _girls_ , I repeated. The longer I stayed in this reality, the more of the current history and my memory was allowed me – which made me realize Sam's second theory really was probably the right one. After all, if it was a leap, I wouldn't be 'remembering' anything. I had four daughters, the youngest two being twins. They were named Donna and Samantha, after our best friends – and their godparents. The other two were Trudy and Melissa (after Beth's grandmother).

I seemed to be fairly happy, although Beth was more than a tad jealous of all the time I spent with the project and Sam. I wondered briefly how much of my relationship with Sam was true friendship, and how much was garnered in my bisexual tendencies. But every time I tried to 'remember', it was blocked by my sense of overwhelming love of Beth; and the sacrifice Sam had made to keep us together.

Sam and Donna had a very professional relationship in this timeline, with no children (although a quick check on my part informed me that Sammy Jo did somehow exist in this universe). The two loved each other. I realized, though, as many late evening talks with Sam filtered through my brain, that it was a stuffy love. Even though she was stronger in this life, there was no real passion in their relationship, and Sam suspected she was regretting leaving that first man at the altar. Still, he was satisfied with it, knowing she was the one woman he would ever truly love as well.

Every once in a while, while searching through a particular record, Sam would give me a look or a touch that made me wonder what exactly he was remembering. Was it the years where I gave him an ear regarding his marriage and life, or was it the now no-longer-valid past of sleepless nights between the two of us, filled with sex and sweat?

If his theory was true, and we were now stuck in this timeline, how much longer would I remember all the histories? More importantly, which history did I want to remember?

*********

_Two of us wearing raincoats_  
 _standing so low in the sun_  
 _you and me chasing paper_  
 _getting nowhere on our way back home._

  
** SAM: **

Checking the records, I felt I was getting nowhere. For every leap I remembered, it no longer had happened. I was both pleased and frustrated, and was starting to remember different things as each leap was cleared.

It was checking the leap into Prescott Naval Academy when it hit me – a wave of memories so strong, I almost had to block them out. And it finally hit me why I had been so upset at Al, why I was so bothered by his stereotypical comments about gays in the military.

"Are we lovers in this history?" I asked carefully, but bluntly.

Thankfully, he didn't try to deny it or act like he didn't know what I was referring to. "I don't know," he said, looking away. "I'm only getting this current history in short bursts. I think you want to," he said with a leer toward me, "and I feel a definite attraction for you, but . . . ."

"Beth," I guessed.

"I love her too much to try anything, in any timeline," he admitted softly. "I guess she really is my first real love."

"I know," I said.

"And something tells me that even in this timeline, I somehow know what was sacrificed for her to wait," he added. "Which probably explains part of why you're still married to Donna."

I sighed again. Donna. Her insisting I stay back at Al's expense that one time we had switched places was still clear in my head, but now it had never happened. I didn't know if I could handle the knowledge of that alternate history, or the new knowledge of the history with Al, if I had to stay here. But I couldn't complain; after all, I had broken every rule to get her to marry me. Like with Tom, there was a sacrifice to getting what I wanted.

We checked, and checked again, and it appeared that history was all back on track. Each leap had been accomplished, and our hologram telling us what to do in this leap refused to show.

But I could tell Al was being torn apart by both sets of memories – his love for me and his love for Beth. And, truthfully, so was I. Too many memories. Too many timelines.

As I closed the files on the last case, I knew that another sacrifice would be required of both of us if we were to live in this world. In order for everything to get back on track, our memories of the alternate histories would have to be erased – and there was really only one way to do that.

*********

_We're going home – better believe it._

****  
** BETH: **

The call came late at night, and to say I was shocked would be an understatement. Al, asking me to come to the project. Asking me to remove the implants that connected both of them to Ziggy. Letting me know in no simple words that the only reason I was being told this much was because I had helped put them in.

When I got there, I had a sense of overwhelming importance at this. This procedure was dangerous, and it signified only one thing. "Are you sure?" I asked Sam. "You know there's no way PQL will get the funding to do this again."

"I think I've spent enough time on this project," he said softly. "Wouldn't you agree, Al?"

Al looked just as sad, for this wasn't just Sam's dream that was ending – it was Al's, as well. He gave Sam a look that clearly signified who had the final decision, and just grinned. "Whatever you say, kid."

"This . . . attempt to leap showed me it's time to let go of this," he said, giving Al a slight touch on the arm. "It'll be good – for everyone – that we do this, and move on to other things."

I looked from one to the other, knowing I would never find out what exactly had conspired between the two of them since Sam's attempt at leaving. But a slight memory, of a man with Sam's face telling me Al was alive in Vietnam, let me realize this truly was Sam's decision.

I put the both of them under a local, and quickly did the procedure. As they both came to, I noticed their faces now lacked something. Before, it had seemed they had a connection, that the link was not just to Ziggy, but to each other as well. Now, it was gone. Oh, they were still friends, but . . . something was missing.

"Beth?" Al asked as his eyes adjusted to the low lighting.

"Yes?" I asked, leaning over.

"Jus' checking," he slurred, still slightly under the anesthesia. "You know I love you, right?"

"Yes, I do," I said, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. Sam, you want me to call Donna to come get you?"

"No, you can drop me off yourself," Sam said, still not with it himself.

"All right," I said. "As soon as you're both ready, let's go home."

"We're already there," Sam said with a slight shake of confusion.

"You better believe it," Al said.

And the two slowly stood, ready to face a new world without Project Quantum Leap.


End file.
